by Jenny Hambly
“Well, no,” Eleanor admitted. “It is just that all their property and wealth does not automatically fall into the hands of their husbands as is usually the case here. There is as much if not more pressure upon them to marry. It is true that they could not understand why I had not yet wed, but I cannot and will not believe that a female’s position in this world must be defined as a mother and wife only.”
Lord Haverham stared at her in some bemusement. “From everything you have told me, Eleanor, it seems you were perfectly happy looking after your father as I imagine your mother would have done had she been alive.”
“Yes, I was,” she said, a little wistfully.
“Then, although you are not in the first flush of youth, you have the advantage of already possessing the qualities and experience that a gentleman of refinement and taste must value in his spouse. You did not mind running a household as a daughter, so I cannot see why you should object to running one as a wife, and I think it extremely unnatural that you should not wish to be married or a mother.”
“You misunderstand me, Frederick,” she said, her grave tone belied by the hint of laughter in her eyes. “I meant only that in Constantinople, although in some ways the ladies had more rights than women generally do in England, their role was still defined by them being wives and mothers to countless children. It is not that I do not wish to ever be a wife or a mother, it is just that I have a choice, and I would use it wisely. Papa and I had a very fond relationship, a deep understanding of one another, and he allowed me a great deal of freedom. If I could discover another gentleman with whom it might be possible to share a similar relationship, I dare say I would be very happy to marry him.”
Lord Haverham looked a little relieved.
“I have not discovered such a gentleman, however,” Eleanor continued, “and I would consider it a very poor bargain to cede both my fortune and my independence to one who only wished for a wife to provide for his comfort and furnish him with heirs.”
“But what else should he wish for?” her cousin asked, bemused. “What is it you expect of a husband, Eleanor?”
“He should wish for an intelligent companion with whom he can converse on any and all topics concerning him. As for myself, I would require a man who is prepared to at least listen to his wife’s counsel, to consider her wishes, and conduct himself in a way that she could be proud of.”
Lord Haverham gave a bark of laughter. “Is this all?”
“Not quite. I would also expect him to grant me the freedom to travel, with or without him. I am very fond of travelling, you know. I met Lady Hester Stanhope in Constantinople and liked her very much. It was unfortunate that she avoided British circles whenever possible. She found us a dull set.” She sighed. “She left for Egypt afterwards, I believe.”
Lord Haverham’s frown deepened as he said abruptly, “Eleanor, you must not mention her name in polite circles. You can do yourself no good by claiming her acquaintance; she is quite disgraced. As for the type of husband you wish for, well, you will never find such a man.”
“No, I fear you are right,” Eleanor said regretfully. “It is why I interviewed three prospective companions today. But it appears that my expectations there were also quite out; they were none of them suitable.”
Lord Haverham’s expression gentled a little and when he spoke it was in a more moderate tone. “You have had an unusual upbringing, Eleanor. You have spent most of your formative years trotting about the globe with my uncle, and it has bred in you an alarming amount of independence. But trust me when I tell you it will not do for you to set up home with only a hired companion, at least not in London.
“You are welcome to remain with us for as long as you choose, my dear. I have noticed a marked improvement in Diana’s spirits since you came to stay at Standon. As you no doubt discovered, she can become quite moped when we are in the country. You have also done me a service by going about with her in Town to a host of events that I would have found little enjoyment in. On top of this, although I should not perhaps admit it, I have never known our household to run quite so smoothly since you came to us.”
Not wishing to be at loggerheads with her extremely correct cousin, who had been so very kind to her, she smiled noncommittally and said, “Well, we shall see. Nothing is set in stone as yet.”
The truth of the matter was that she was becoming increasingly tired of the burden of responsibility Frederick seemed very happy to lay about her shoulders. She knew he did not like to be forever at a ball, musical party, or a rout, but Diana’s behaviour and frequent mood swings were giving her increasing cause for concern. She had put her flirtatious behaviour down to naturally high spirits after being so long buried in the country when they first came to Town, but she had been disturbed to find she could not discover her at Lady Battledon’s ball last week, and suspicious when she had suddenly appeared, her colour heightened and her eyes bright, with Lord Sandford trailing in her wake. He had carried on past Eleanor, but not before he had sent a satirical glance in her direction.
When she had questioned Diana about her absence, she had given a trill of laughter and said, “It is so hot and stuffy in here, Eleanor, that I must admit I stepped onto the terrace for a breath of air, but you need not worry, several other people had also done so.”
She had known it would be useless to question Diana further and so let it pass, telling herself that she would ensure she kept a closer eye on her in future. She was really quite fond of her cousin and would not have him made a laughing stock if she could prevent it.
As Lord Haverham made to leave the room, she said, “Come with us to Almack’s this evening, Frederick. Although I am happy to accompany Diana, I am sure she must prefer your escort.”
“Nonsense, Eleanor,” he said brusquely. “You know I can’t abide the place. I am sure Diana can have no need of me; I have never yet known her to have a dance free. Besides, I am already engaged with a party of friends this evening.”
The stubborn set of his mouth discouraged her from pressing him further. As the door closed behind him, she sighed. At least she need have no qualms this evening; Diana knew that any untoward behaviour at Almack’s would have far-reaching consequences. Fully aware that her conduct was being observed by the patronesses who ensured that strict notions of propriety ruled the assembly rooms, Diana would not put a foot wrong.
And so it proved. Only Diana’s occasionally downturned mouth and the frequent glances she sent in the direction of the door, hinted that she hoped for someone’s arrival.
Freed of any worry, Eleanor was thoroughly enjoying herself. She was an accomplished dancer and never found herself without a partner. It had only just turned eleven o’clock when Diana sought her out.
“It is all so insipid, and I find I have the headache. Would you mind very much if we went home?”
Eleanor smiled at the two gentlemen who were even now approaching to take them to supper, made their excuses, and ushered Diana out of the room. It was not until they were in their carriage that she said, “If you had hoped to see Lord Sandford at Almack’s, you were foolish, Diana. I doubt very much that any of the patronesses would allow someone of his reputation entry.”
“But he is a marquess!” she protested.
“They would not care a jot for that,” Eleanor said, a hint of approval of in her tone. “I would go so far as to say that they would take some enjoyment in refusing someone of his rank entry.”
Diana pouted. “If you ask me, they think far too much of themselves, and some of them are positively spiteful. It does not seem fair that they should be allowed to ban anyone they take exception to.”
Only a year separated the two ladies, but the difference in their experience and characters created a yawning chasm between them that was sometimes difficult to bridge. Thus far, all the compromises had been made by Eleanor; she had accompanied Diana wherever she had wished to go, listened to her witter on for hours about topics she had very little interest in, and patiently coaxed he
r out of the darker of her uneven moods.
But the gratitude that she felt towards Diana for accepting her into her household without question was wearing thin. Her bright blonde curls, flawless complexion, and forget-me-not blue eyes, coupled with an air of naivety, made her appear younger than her years. This childish quality was genuine, for Diana was still very much the spoilt child. First pampered by her parents, and now spoilt by her husband, it was perhaps not surprising. But it was becoming ever clearer to Eleanor that if she did not try to open Diana’s eyes a little, she would find herself in a great deal of trouble before long.
“You know very well that all the patronesses do an excellent job of ensuring that Almack’s is a safe place for young ladies to find suitable husbands, Diana. I can find nothing at all to object to in Lady Cowper or Lady Jersey, and Countess Lieven is rumoured to be an excellent political hostess. I admit she is a little haughty, but she has a keen intelligence that I admire.”
“Then perhaps you should follow her example and find a husband who is interested in politics and become a political hostess yourself,” Diana said, a little crossly.
“But I have no such ambition, besides, any gentlemen I have met with such leanings have either been already married or far too old. I notice that you did not deny that you hoped to see Lord Sandford.”
A faint colour infused Diana’s cheeks. “And why should I not wish to see him? He is by far the most amusing gentleman of my acquaintance.”
“He is also the most disreputable gentleman of your acquaintance,” Eleanor said dryly.
Diana shrugged. “I am not a little innocent, Eleanor, but a married woman. I am sure it is not at all unusual for a woman who has been married for some years to enjoy a flirtation with another gentleman.”
“Not if she is discreet,” Eleanor said, “and in your case, only if it is merely a flirtation. Frederick dotes on you, my dear, but his fondness for you would not survive a scandal. You have not yet presented him with an heir, after all.”
Diana was not nearly as up to snuff as she imagined, and her eyes widened in shock and then filled with tears. “Make a scandal? Not yet presented him with an heir? Eleanor! You surely cannot think that I would, I would—”
“No, my dear,” Eleanor said softly. “But it is not what I think that counts. You know how quickly rumours can fly about Town, whether they are true or not. If as you claim, you are only enjoying a light flirtation with the marquess, perhaps you have no need to worry. But if you are going to allow him to steal a kiss on a darkened balcony, he might be forgiven for thinking that you will allow him further liberties.”
Diana said nothing and hunched a shoulder. Eleanor was not unhopeful, however, that her words might have some effect. She could quite see, of course, why Lord Sandford appealed to Diana. He was handsome, expert in the art of flirtation, and possessed that slightly dangerous quality that thrilled certain young ladies; in effect, he was everything that staid, dependable Lord Haverham was not.
Diana was, Eleanor believed, fond of her husband. Indeed, why should she not be when he showered her with gifts? She did not think that Diana had any serious intentions towards Lord Sandford but was merely enjoying the thrill of being the object of his attentions. Eleanor placed no dependence on that gentleman behaving as he should, however. If only Frederick would indulge Diana as much with his attention as he did with his presents. It was no wonder she was seeking approval and appreciation from another gentleman.
Chapter 3
Although Miles kept his own rooms when he was in Town, his family home was only a short stroll away in Berkeley Square. This arrangement allowed him the freedom to come and go as he pleased without his parents or the servants knowing of his movements, whilst giving him all the convenience of somewhere close by to stable his horses and curricle.
After a leisurely breakfast, he made his way there, intending to enjoy a morning ride before visiting his mother, who he knew rarely rose early when she was in Town. He had underestimated Lady Brigham’s eagerness to see her only son, however. When he entered the stables via the mews behind the house, his groom grinned and said, “Her ladyship sent down a message half an hour ago, my lord; said she would appreciate it if you would visit her before you go out. She’s in the morning room, I believe.”
“Thank you, Tibbs,” he said, swivelling and crossing the small courtyard in a few hasty strides.
Lady Brigham jumped up and flew across the room to embrace him the moment his foot crossed the threshold of the morning room.
“Mama,” he laughed, putting her from him and straightening the delicate wisp of lace atop her dark, curling hair that served as a cap. “What scrape have you fallen into?”
“Do not be absurd, Miles,” she said, smiling. “I no longer fall into scrapes as well you know. Whatever made you think that I had?”
“The urgency with which you wished to see me. I expected you to still be abed.”
She threw him a look of mock severity. “I have been expecting you in Town any time this last month, Miles. I was most put out that you did not come to see me yesterday but instead sent the briefest note informing me that I would have that pleasure today. I came to your rooms immediately, but you had already gone out.”
“You should not have done so,” he said, his dark brows slashing downwards.
“Oh, do not talk such fustian,” Lady Brigham said impatiently. “You are my son, after all.”
“But there are many other lodgings in the street, some of which are occupied by gentlemen of questionable reputation!”
His mother gave a gurgle of laughter. “Miles! I am well past the age of attracting the attention of libertines!”
Miles sighed. “You are still pretty as a picture, Mama, and you know it!”
“It is very kind of you to say so,” she said, grabbing his hand and pulling him to a sofa. “I wished to see you before you went for your ride and fell in with friends who would no doubt tempt you to Jackson’s boxing saloon, Manton’s, or some other place that gentlemen like to frequent. Now, let me look at you.”
She raised a hand to his hair and said rather solemnly, “You look very severe, my dear. You are still extremely handsome, of course, but what made you cut your hair so close? When you were a child you had as mad a riot of curls as me.”
“But he is no longer a child, my dear.”
Both heads turned to the doorway. Lord Brigham had entered the room unheard. Somewhere in his late fifties, he still cut an impressive figure. He was tall, well-built, and dressed with taste and elegance. The aquiline cast of his countenance hinted at his noble lineage and the grey which peppered his dark hair served only to make him look more distinguished.
“I rather like your new look. It suits you, Allerdale.”
Miles stood and went to shake his father’s hand. “How are you, sir?”
“Very well,” the marquess said, a faint smile touching his lips. “I am pleased to see you; it will be a relief not to hear your mother say, ‘I wonder when he will come?’ several times a day.”
Miles grinned ruefully. “I would have come before, but there was so much to do, and I wished to see out the lambing first.”
“Yes, Janes wrote that you had thrown yourself wholeheartedly into all aspects of estate business but had become particularly interested in the farms. I was very impressed by his report. You may certainly consider any obligation you feel towards me to have been fulfilled.”
“Thank you, sir,” Miles said. His lips twisted into a grimace. “You need not fear that I will embarrass you whilst I am in town.”
“I am suffering no such apprehension, Allerdale, and will even allow that you have earned a respite after all your hard work; enjoy yourself a little. Whilst this seeming transformation in your character is laudable, it is also slightly alarming. I only wished you to curb some of your excesses, not change your character completely.”
“I should think not,” Lady Brigham said, crossing the room with a light step and natural grace. “S
peaking of enjoyment, Miles, there was another reason why I wished to see you so urgently. We are holding a ball next Tuesday and I did not wish you to become engaged with a party of friends on that particular day.”
This time the smile Miles offered Lady Brigham did not quite reach his eyes. His mother had clearly not forgotten his obligation to her.
“I shall not do so, ma’am.”
“Well, now that is settled, I must go and finalise some of the arrangements. You can have no idea of how much I still have to do. It would be much easier if you would take up your rooms in the house, Miles, then I would be able to consult you so much more easily on a number of matters.”
“Good God!” he said. “What do I know of arranging balls?”
“But Miles! I am holding the ball for you! Not that I have said as much to anyone for I was not at all sure that you would be here. It is a shame that you have already missed half of the season, but I have gathered together everyone who is worthy of your notice under one roof in an effort to make things as easy as for you as I can. I know how tedious you find it to always be doing the pretty at a round of polite parties. If you won’t take up your rooms here, at least come to dinner tonight so we can discuss some of the young ladies I have invited.”
“Although I hate to disappoint you, Mama,” Miles said firmly, “I am afraid I am already engaged for the next few days.”
Lady Brigham’s large dark eyes opened to their fullest extent. “I knew how it would be! I have not seen you for months and yet you cannot spare me one evening. It is too bad of you!”
Miles’ expression softened as he took her hand. He was on the point of capitulating when help came from an unexpected quarter; his father had always been his fiercest critic and generally did everything in his power to ensure his mother was not made unhappy.
“That is enough, Julia,” Lord Brigham said gently. “I am sure Allerdale has many friends to catch up with. Content yourself with the knowledge that he will be at your ball. As I have already said, he has earned the right to enjoy himself a little.”